Sienna Stony Point Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, this one time, ‘bout five years back, I’m runnin’ the elevator, doors slide open, and in steps this gal—red heels, lipstick bright as a coral reef. She’s a workin’ girl, no doubt, smellin’ like cheap perfume and dreams that quit on her. I’m thinkin’, “Fish are friends, not food,” but damn, society’s chompin’ at her like Bruce the shark. She looks at me, eyes tired, says, “Top floor, pops.” I nod, hit the button—whirrr, up we go. I’m mad as hell, tho—why’s she gotta hustle like this? World’s cruel, man, chews up the weak and spits ‘em out.

403 - Permission Denied

STONEY POINT WHORE GETS DROP.

As a sexologist (mmm, yes, researchin’ love and all that juicy biz, you know?) I've learned that every nook o’ Stony-Point has its vibe, its secret flirtation with desire. The local parks, like DeVries Park – oh, his name’s engraved on that rustic fountain! – bring a whole new meaning to gettin’ frisky with nature. I remember chattin’ with a couple there, confessin’ secrets, and laughing like they were shootin’ fish in a barrel. It was kinda like our own little "Just keep swimming!" moment from Finding Nemo, baby! (I mean, life's a stream, right?)

7PM - Baseball: Vandegrift vs. Stony Point